“Dangerous!” echoed the shabby man.  “Surely it could not have placed either of you in any greater danger than you are in already?”

“She didn’t like it.”

“Few people do,” laughed the other.  “But, depend upon it, it’s the only way.  She wouldn’t, at any rate, have had an opportunity of telling the truth.”

Flockart pulled a wry face, and after a silence of a few moments said, “Don’t let us discuss that.  We fully considered all the pros and cons, at the time.”

“Her ladyship is growing scrupulously honest of late,” sneered his companion.  “She’ll try to get rid of you very soon, I expect.”

The latter sentence was more full of meaning than the speaker dreamed.  The words, falling upon Flockart’s ears, caused him to wince.  Was her ladyship really trying to rid herself of his influence?  He laughed within himself at the thought of her endeavouring to release herself from the bond.  For her he had never, at any moment, entertained either admiration or affection.  Their association had always been purely one of business—­business, be it said, in which he made the profits and she the losses.

“It would hardly be an easy matter for her,” replied the easy-going, audacious adventurer.

“She seems to be very popular up at Glencardine,” remarked the foreigner, “because she’s extravagant and spends money in the neighbourhood, I suppose.  But the people in Auchterarder village criticise her treatment of Gabrielle.  They hear gossip from the servants, I expect.”

“They should know of the girl’s treatment of her stepmother,” exclaimed Flockart.  “But there, villagers are always prone to listen to and embroider any stories concerning the private life of the gentry.  It’s just the same in Scotland as in any other country in the world.”

“Ah!” continued Flockart, “in Scotland the old families are gradually decaying, and their estates are falling into the hands of blatant parvenus.  Counter-jumpers stalk deer nowadays, and city clerks on their holidays shoot over peers’ preserves.  The humble Scot sees it all with regret, because he has no real liking for this latter-day invasion by the newly-rich English.  Cotton-spinners from Lancashire buy deer-forests, and soap-boilers from Limehouse purchase castles with family portraits and ghosts complete.”

“Ah! speaking of the supernatural,” exclaimed Krail suddenly, “do you know I had a most extraordinary and weird experience when at Glencardine about three weeks ago.  I actually heard the Whispers!”

Flockart stared hard at the man at his side, and, laughing outright, said, “Well, that’s the best joke I’ve heard to-day.  You, of all men, to be taken in by a mere superstition.”

“But, my dear friend, I heard them,” said Krail.  “I swear I actually heard them!  And I—­well, I admit to you, even though you may laugh at me for being a superstitious fool—­I somehow anticipate that something uncanny is about to happen to me.”